


You Are Bad, He Is Good

by madnessiseverything



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Season 5 Ending, Character Death, Episode Tag, Minor Stiles Stilinski/Malia Tate, Plural pronouns, Post Lies of Omission, Post-Episode: s05e09 Lies of Omission
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-08-22
Updated: 2016-04-24
Packaged: 2018-04-16 14:19:10
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 7
Words: 14,285
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4628445
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/madnessiseverything/pseuds/madnessiseverything
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stiles stared at the door to the animal clinic. It had fallen shut behind Scott only a few seconds ago. But Stiles couldn’t tear his eyes away from that rotten piece of metal door that had signaled something the hole in his chest still couldn't understand. <em>This isn’t happening, it couldn’t happen</em>.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Post Lies of Omission feels because I am a sucker for Stiles and Void. Intended as a Oneshot, but if people like it I am willing to continue.

~~This was always going to happen, you know.~~  
  
Stiles stared at the door to the animal clinic. It had fallen shut behind Scott only a few seconds ago. But Stiles couldn’t tear his eyes away from that rotten piece of metal door that had signaled something the hole in his chest still couldn't understand. _This isn’t happening, it couldn’t happen._  
  
He wasn’t sure if it was rain stinging in his eyes and blurring his vision, maybe it was tears. Stiles couldn’t bring himself to care as he blinked. Maybe if he closed his eyes he would wake up.  
  
~~Wake up, wake up.~~  
  
Stiles’ eyes dropped suddenly from the door to the wrench in his trembling hand. He stared at the object that had destroyed Scott’s trust in him, shattered their relationship with nothing but its own cold metal, worked against their bond until cracks became shards of glass falling to the ground. Anger boiled up and Stiles pulled back his arm.  
  
He wasn’t sure if the scream echoing in his head left his lips as he flung the wrench away from himself into the rain. He heard it hit the gravel not too far away.  
  
~~Your fingers, you know this isn’t a dream. Count, figure it out.~~  
  
Stiles found himself with his back against the jeep. He didn’t know when he had backed up far enough to feel the door behind his shoulder blades. Shaking hands were in front of his face. He counted, forcing himself to fold each finger towards his palm as he did so. Ten.  
  
Stiles shook his head and counted again. Ten. _No, no. This isn’t real. Scott would never turn his back, right?_  
  
~~Wrong.~~  
  
He spun around and slammed his fist into the jeep door, forcing another scream back down.  
  
~~You want the pain, you deserve it, murderer.~~  
  
The pain shot up his arm and made him stumble back. He knew this time his hand was broken. And Scott wasn’t there to gently wrap his hands around Stiles’ and take the pain. _Because he is so good, too good._  
  
~~You don’t deserve him. He is a good person. You aren’t a good person.~~  
  
Stiles leaned his forehead against the jeep and cradled his hand to his chest. Rain was still soaking him, clinging to him like it was desperate to wash his pain away. Like it was trying to cleanse him.  
  
~~You are a bad person. Nothing can wash that away.~~  
  
With his good hand Stiles pulled the door open and climbed into the jeep. He didn’t deserve a chance to wash off all this blood.  
  
~~All that blood, it will never wash off. Bad, wrong. It will always be there. You put it there.~~  
  
Stiles stared at the steering wheel. He knew now that it was tears that were making the interior of his jeep swim.  
  
Scott didn’t believe him. He thought of him as a horrible person. He had flinched. Flinched away from Stiles. Stiles had seen the wide eyes before, their clothes just as soaked as this time. Scott had stared at him then, too, so scared. Only then it hadn’t been Stiles. Scott had been afraid of something wearing Stiles’ face, twisting a sword in Scott’s stomach. He had had the same wide, terrified eyes.  
  
But this time, it had been Stiles. Just Stiles.  
  
It hit him, left him gasping for breath. He felt that air he was trying so desperately to get into his lungs flee through the hole the turned back of True Alpha, good person, hero Scott McCall had punched there, the edges becoming frayed and bloody with the door closing.  
  
~~Or course he doesn't believe. You are bad, he is good. Good people don’t believe bad people.~~  
  
Stiles couldn’t breathe. Pain was pulsing in his right arm, his broken hand resting painfully against the side of his seat. He deserved it.  
  
~~We knew this would happen. Bad people never get away. The hero always gets them, gets us.~~  
  
Stiles tried focusing; he tried so desperately to find his breath again. He clenched his fist and shouted at the pain. Black spots appeared in front of his eyes and suddenly air came rushing into his bruised lungs. He gasped and slowly unfurled his hand, hissing at the wave of excruciating pain.  
  
~~We are bad. Bad people deal with pain because they deserve it. We deal with it.~~  
  
He reached around the steering wheel and turned his key. He had to get away. Scott didn’t want him here, didn’t need him. The engine of the beaten jeep spluttered to life and somehow Stiles found both his hands on the wheel. He would deal with the broken hand, soon. He just had to get away.  
  
~~We leave now. This is good people territory, we don’t belong here. They are good, we are bad.~~  
  
He found himself on the street, driving slowly. The broken hand was resting against the wheel, unmoving. Stiles didn’t know what he was doing. He just had to get away. Far away. The rain made it hard for him to see. The tears hadn’t stopped, blurring more of the surroundings. But he kept his foot down, moving the car along the quiet street.  
  
~~We killed him. So much blood. Scott walked away. You are bad.~~  
  
_Scott deserves better, right? So much better._ Stiles blinked twice, harshly. His eyes burned, but somehow Stiles knew no more tears would come. He felt empty, like the tears staining his face had only dug deeper into the hole behind his ribs.  
  
“Sorry, Scott. Fuck, I'm so sorry.” The words spilled past his lips without his control, filling the silence with empty words. _Scott has no use for those words. It’s too late. You're too late._  
  
The jeep jerked to a stop. Stiles lunged forward in his seat and his hand fell numb. No more pain radiated up his arm and Stiles stared at his crooked fingers. _Shock, just shock._ His eyelids felt heavy and Stiles rested his forehead against the steering wheel, next to his numb hand. Nothing mattered. He didn’t matter. He was bad.   
  
~~We can heal. We are bad. We can help. We are here.~~  
  
XXX  
  
They got woken up by swerving headlights passing them and someone shouting. They smiled and lifted their face from the wheel. They slowly moved their hand, the one the poor human had broken in rage. They felt wonderful, healthy and _alive_.  
  
Of course they hadn’t left the mind. Nobody should leave the perfect host once their found it. And this pale, pained feast of a human being was just on the edge of too perfect. This boy’s mind was empty enough for void and yet so full of chaos and pain. And those wonderfully grey spaces of morals. It was almost too easy for them.  
  
The first time the boy had fought so furiously, digging his nails into the space they, void, needed. It had been so delicious, beautiful.  
  
This time was different, they knew that. The human had been in such wonderful pain, physical and emotional pain rooted in every fiber of his being. All doors had been flung open so quickly, so suddenly that they had been too curious to play. The boy had been hurting and their starved spirit had crawled into the space they had always been supposed to take for themselves.  
  
They closed their hand, digging blunt human nails into skin and the bones shifted, fixing their cracks slowly. They were stronger than ever.  
  
“What should we do now?” The question was quiet, followed by a huff of breath. It was almost a laugh. They leaned back in the seat and looked around.  
  
The jeep had stopped in the middle of the road and they were surprised no other cars had driven into it. Almost disappointed. The small flames of chaos would have been a cherry on top of a pile of cream. But they were satisfied. For now they were sated. There would be enough pain and strife soon for them to feed on.  
  
There was no screaming in their head this time. The human boy wasn’t fighting the void, pushing it away. He was quiet. So quiet, willing.  Another huff, this one more like a laugh, filled the jeep. Headlights came up behind them and they started the jeep.  
  
Maybe they would pay the bad wolf, the one with the lies, a visit. They could taste the fun that would bring.  
  
They pulled back onto the road, the engine almost too quiet. They smiled. It was clear how similar the boy and his car were. Broken, beaten, barely hanging on. And quiet now, so quiet.  
  
The boy was still, they were silent.  
  
They couldn’t wait for the chaos to start.


	2. Chapter 2

Stiles wrapped his arms around his shaking knees and stared straight ahead. Not that there was anything new to see. He remembered this feeling, remembered all too well what it meant, what it had brought him in the past.   
  
He had wanted to scream when he had opened his eyes and had been faced with a smirking copy of himself, arms crossed over Stiles’ own chest. Panic had pooled under his skin, threatening to burst his skull. Then his _shadow_ had gripped his arms and calm had washed over him, and Stiles had found himself alone, sitting on the stump of that damned tree.   
  
Stiles had wanted to freak out, had wanted to wake up so badly. He had hoped it was just another one of his too-real nightmares, where Void showed up and whispered. They had come back full force right after Donovan.   
  
With a shuddering breath, Stiles dug his fingernails into his forearm. Other than fear and anxiety, neither Donovan nor his shadow induced the level of panic Stiles had felt in the dreams. He was almost scared about how calm the simple touch of the Nogitsune had made him.   
  
This wasn’t supposed to be quiet, to be calm. But Stiles couldn’t help it. Now he was staring into the white nothing around him. What felt like miles of white, sterile room stretched around the spot where the Nemeton had broken out of the ground what Stiles knew to be his own mind.   
  
The last time he had been here a board for the game of Go had been in front of him and he hadn’t noticed his surroundings until the stones had rattled on the board and Scott’s – Scott – roar had made him fight back. But that was in the past.   
  
He felt… detached. He knew the feeling, but the last time – he scoffed with bitterness – he had felt more bound, had felt constant fear of what the fox would do with Stiles’ hands, had been terrified for his friends. Had hurt his friends.   
  
But now Stiles just sat here and stared. He knew the Nogitsune had woken up a couple of minutes ago. He could feel the fox slowly spreading into every fiber of his mind and body around him. He could feel the jeep coming to life. It was bizarre. He didn’t care.   
  
It was a positively horrifying thought when he imagines black discoloring his soul. But all Stiles could do was blink. He didn’t even manage a cold laugh when his mind wandered. _It was already black, Stiles. That’s why we came back. It was never white, was it? We know._   
  
He ignored the flashes of Donovan, ignored the memory of twisting a sword into Scott’s stomach. He pushed any thought of Allison out of his mind, his eyes going out of focus as he gritted his teeth.   
  
Stiles had never felt this far away from everything.   
  
It was too easy.   
  
The fox had it too easy.   
  
And Stiles couldn’t find it in himself to be scared of that.   
  
XXX   
  
The wolf thought he was clever, they had seen his smirk. He didn’t even try to hide.   
  
They waited, knowing this was what the wolf expected. He expected them to appear clever, because that’s the name of the human boy, wasn’t it? The clever one.   
  
They laughed and pulled out.   
  
Clever indeed. And so wonderfully dark.   
  
The boy was still silent, sitting, waiting. They could feel him remember and lips stretched into a smile too dark to fool anybody. But they didn’t worry. Only the human was here to witness. And the human would never say anything against them, they knew.   
  
The human had given up, had handed over control. They wanted nothing more than to execute what their fingers itched to do. The boy had joined them, adding onto their thoughts.   
  
They knew he didn’t realize it, but they knew it was going to happen. They were one. And neither party regretted that fact.   
  
The wolf turned off the street and they followed, peeling away their fox and replacing it with the boy. There was no resistance when he acquired the mannerisms and smells that he had acted in not too long ago. It was a wonderful feeling, the feeling of the trick. It was intoxicating.   
  
They stopped the jeep behind the wolf’s car and watched. They knew things; it was almost too easy to read the wolf. His face was full of victory and confidence was radiating even through into the car. They planned to change that.   
  
Slowly, they climbed out, finishing their Stiles exterior. The wolf looked up with arrogance. They were going to have so much fun.   
  
“I thought you’d never show up,” Theo said and crossed his arms, more a display of his arms and strength than a gesture of insecurity. They stepped around his car, facing the liar.   
  
They could feel Stiles’ mistrust.   
  
“What are you playing at?” They asked, focusing on the wolf. They wanted to play him, but it had been so long since they had tasted somebody else’s pain. Their host didn’t count. It kept them alive, healthy, but they wanted the pain not to survive, but to enjoy. To overindulge.   
  
“Stiles, I never lied about why I came here. I promise.” They scoffed at the earnest smile on the wolf’s face.   
  
“Oh yeah?” Their voice made them smile. It was just so human. They had almost missed the way people reacted to the human boy, to such a human voice.   
  
They must have looked sarcastic, because Theo’s face fell. _It is good at acting, isn’t it, Stiles?_   
  
“I came here for a pack.” And just like that, the wolf’s demeanor changed. His eyes narrowed slightly and a smirk plastered itself onto those misleading human features. Theo stepped towards them and they raised their eyebrows. The wolf was going to open up to them. _Oh Stiles. We will get answers, we will have it._   
  
They watched him as Theo tilted his head.   
  
“I came for the werecoyote, I came for the banshee.” Theo smiled, taking a step towards them. “The dark kitsune, the beta with anger issues,” the wolf took another step and titled his head down just the slightest, but they caught the motion. Refusing to bare his throat. They leaned back slightly, repeating the movement for themselves.   
  
Foxes didn’t bare their throats to wolves.   
  
“I came for void Stiles.” _Oh, how predictable. Stiles, did you hear it? It came for us._   
  
They locked eyes with the wolf, their face blank. They had waited long enough.   
  
“That’s the pack I want.” They ignored the small question at the back of their mind. _What about Scott?_ They had better things to do.   
  
“It doesn’t include Scott.” _Oh listen. Does it think it has something on us?_   
  
They stepped forward now, eyes trailing down the wolf’s face to his throat. “You think you can control us?” _He thinks he can control us._   
  
Theo cocked his head and smirked. “Oh, you will follow me. I know that.”   
  
“On what facts are you going on?” They humored him. They were curious, but not for long would their curiosity be in the wolf’s favor. They curled their hands into fists by their sides.   
  
The wolf raised his hand and fingers tapped against their chest. They felt claws. Golden eyes shone at them. _No guilt. It’s so similar, isn’t it?_   
  
“I have my methods,” the wolf purred. _It’s so confident. I like it. But not enough._   
  
They pulled back their arm and struck the wolf across the face. Theo’s head snapped to the side and dropped to the floor. They smiled down at the surprised boy.   
  
“We cannot be controlled, little wolf.” Theo scrambled to get up, eyes wide in surprise. But they didn’t let him move. Their hands pushed him down, pinning him to the forest floor. They felt pine needles dig through jeans and looked down into Theo’s face.   
  
“You asked for us,” they smiled down and their right hand dragged from the shoulder up towards the wolf’s neck, now exposed.   
  
“What are you doing, Stiles?”   
  
“We are giving you what you wanted, wolf. You asked for Void.” They leaned down, their nose brushing against the cheek of the scared wolf beneath them.   
  
_It is scared, do you feel it? It’s delicious, don’t we think?_   
  
Their first hand closed around the exposed throat and claws came up, slashing at their body. They cooed.   
  
“It’s adorable; you still believe you have control. Wolf, control slipped your fingers as soon as you drove here.” They leaned down further, their tongue poking out to slide across their still human teeth.   
  
“We took it, little wolf.” Their left hand joined the right and clawed hands wrapped around their forearms. It was futile, but the wolf snarled at them still. _It refuses to accept it. We will teach it._   
  
Theo was gasping for air as their hands closed around his throat. Slow pain filled their veins and they needed more. Claws drew blood from their arms, but they could feel the wolf’s shift. Soon they stared into wide human eyes, human hands tugging on their arms. They smiled.   
  
“You see, control is overrated.” _We need more pain, we will get more pain._   
  
They let go of the wolf. They won’t be tempted to end the little wolf too quickly. They were going to drag it out.  
  
 _We are going to destroy it. We can’t wait, can we? We are ready for its pain; we will have its pain._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again, the continuation of this depends whether or not people want it :) I am open for it.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The pronouns could possibly be confusing, if so I apologise. The change of pronouns is utilised as a display of Void's take over. If anything is too confusing, feel free to point it out to me!

They looked down at the unconscious wolf with glee. The sound of its feet dragging over the forest floor made them smile; made them hurry along towards their destination. The promise, no, the knowledge of pain was on their mind.   
  
They let go of the wolf’s arms. A satisfying thud echoed around them, but didn’t disturbe the quiet nature.   
  
Their eyes were drawn to the wide tree stump in front of them. A smile formed on their lips as they took in the bodies around it. They stepped closer, brushing past a young woman. Their fingertips dragged over cold, burned skin and they placed their palms onto the rough wood.   
  
_It was our home, we remember it. We were locked away, but its life pulsated._ They looked back to the wolf at the roots of the tree.   
  
_Until they cut it down, yes they did. It hurt us, didn’t it?_ They smirked as their voice took the sound of Stiles’. The boy was theirs. They were him.   
  
His pain filled their veins, lovely pain slowly disappearing. They needed more. _We will make it pay. And then this town will learn the true meaning of chaos, we will make them learn, we will._   
  
XXX   
  
Stiles felt the smile on his lips and his head swam. He was alone, sitting on a tree stump in endless white. And yet, he felt in control of his body. He didn’t feel as if the fox was moving him.   
  
No, it was them. They were in control. Together.   
  
He crossed his legs and relaxed. His mind wasn’t racing anymore. It was quiet in his ears, his heart slowed down. He wasn’t scared. This was right. The fox was right.   
  
_Of course we are right. We are always right, aren’t we?_   
  
Nobody ever listened, but they were always right.   
  
Stiles put his hands on his knees and breathed out. Tension vibrated through the air around him, making his skin crawl before disappearing. It left behind nothing but calm.   
  
They were in control. They were unpredictable.   
  
_Shall we teach the wolf? We should teach it._   
  
They were going to teach the wolf. It deserved it. After all, it had mocked them. Believed that they were something to control, a weak pet. But they were a force, a storm, right?   
  
Stiles uncrossed his legs slowly and laid down, his back pressing into the nemeton, into the space its roots had dug into his mind. He felt its life beneath him and slowly closed his eyes.   
  
They were a storm. They were ready. Chaos was near.   
  
XXX   
  
They turned to the wolf on the ground and shook their head at it. It had not woken up. They stepped closer and knocked their foot into the wolf’s ribs.   
  
“Wake up, little wolf. Wake up. We can make you.” The wolf coughed and amber eyes stared up at them with defiance. They smiled. _It has an attitude; it still believes to be a match for us._   
  
“Come on, wolf. Didn’t you ask for us? Don’t make us wait.” They bent down and hauled the wolf up by its collar. They pushed it back. A low growl made their smile grow.   
  
“I’m no ordinary wolf,” it snarled at them and they tilted their head. Its eyes were bright and its claws were out. It was angry, they knew. But oh, how futile its anger was.   
  
_It believes it’s special. We know it doesn’t matter._ They took a step closer to the wolf and laughed as it stepped back the same distance. _It acts, but it’s scared. We can taste it._   
  
“Does it want to tell us what it is?” Their voice was condescending, and their grin formed around their teeth. _We talk down to him, he is beneath us. Has always been._ The wolf growled again.   
  
“I am the first chimera. I am not ordinary!”   
  
_So predictable. We should have known. But it doesn’t matter. It still feels pain. We will make it feel pain._   
  
“Wolf, it doesn’t matter. We are in control. Your form doesn’t change your pain.” They grabbed hold of the wolf again. It struggled, but they were strong. They pushed it backwards and it fell. Air was punched out of its lungs as its back knocked into the hard wood of the dead tree.   
  
“We don’t follow wolves. We trick them.” _Oh, and how we play tricks._   
  
The wolf was staring up at them as they crawled onto the stump, their teeth gleaming with a wicked smile. They were having so much fun. _We are having fun. The wolf doesn’t understand what he messed with._   
  
“You don’t know what you wanted to unleash, wolf,” they whispered. “You wanted us, because you didn’t understand us.”   
  
The wolf was terrified now. Its body was still as it stared up at them. Their fingers tapped against the wood just next to the wolf’s head and it flinched.   
  
“You wanted us. Now you pay, wolf.” Their hands pushed the wolf into the wood harder as they settled above it. They felt its muscles tense, a last attempt was being made underneath them. Fangs snapped in front of their face.   
  
Their laughter was louder than the wolf. _We start now._   
  
The clatter of metal hitting the wood let the wolf flinch again. “Relax, wolf. It is only a knife.” They traced their fingers down its cheek, to its throat. A small whimper made them chuckle.   
  
“Oh, you can smell it? How surprising.” Their other hand curled tighter around the wolfsbane blade they had taken for themselves long ago. The wolf’s horror filled them with delight.   
  
“Please,” the wolf whimpered, eyes sliding away from their face to the blade. _It thinks it can get away. Adorable._   
  
“Wolf, we are much more than you think,” they hissed and pressed the blade against its collarbone. “And we don’t like being underestimated. We don’t like when wolves think they are smart.”   
  
The pain made them shiver. It had been too long since they had forced it out of someone. The blade dug deeper as the wolf’s screams filled the forest.   
  
They pulled the knife down suddenly and ripped through the shirt. Blood dripped onto the wood. Their eyes rolled back as their other hand pressed harder against the wolf’s skin, taking what belonged to them. It sparked inside of them. _We want it, we have it._   
  
Their gasps weren’t soft, but were harsh intakes of breath. They were filled with pain and so much joy. The blade was dragged back up, digging deeper into flesh.   
  
“You wanted this, wolf. You wanted us.” Their voice was raw, a growl. “We cannot be controlled, we are not beneath you.”   
  
The wolf’s claws dug into their sides, but it was weak. _So weak, yet such strong pain._ It was everything they could have asked for. They raised the blade from the cuts and smiled at the blood on their hands.   
  
The tip of the knife hovered over the wolf’s stomach as they fully straddled him. Its arms fell to its sides and wide eyes, filled with horror, looked up at them. They pulled its head up slightly, brushing their lips against its ear.   
  
“We hope you learned, wolf,” they whispered, teeth grazing skin. _We taught it, it had to learn._ “You wanted to control us. We deserve your pain for your offence.” The blade was stabbed down and a gurgled scream was muffled into their shoulder.   
  
They countered it with a moan as they twisted the knife.   
  
In a white room, Stiles’ mind writhed on the nemeton, ecstasy coursing through their blood, their back arched with pleasure.   
  
XXX   
  
The next morning the body of Theo Raeken was found in front of the sheriff’s station, his chest cut open and red words carved into his stomach.   
_  
We always fool you._


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay so this was supposed to be the last chapter but it's getting really long so I decided to split it in two. Hope you enjoy it!

They crossed their legs as they stared at the sparkling lights of Beacon Hills below them. They scowled at the serenity, the peacefulness any normal person on a drive through would associate with this town. They didn’t want peaceful.   
  
They needed chaos.   
  
They smiled as the memories of screaming civilians and hospital staff, bloodied floors and dead bodies filled them.   
  
_We have to get more._   
  
They jumped down from the hood of the jeep. It wasn’t too hard to keep running, a few jabs. They liked it, liked the way they were familiar with it. It was nice having something.   
  
The phone in their pocket vibrated and they pulled it out as they climbed into the driver’s seat. They smiled at the screen.   
  
“Yo, dad.”   
  
“Stiles, where the hell are you?” The sheriff’s voice was strained and they sighed.   
  
“Sorry, dad. I just went to have a bit of fresh air.”   
  
“Stiles, for the love of god. We found a mutilated body and all hell is loose in the supernatural world. At least tell me someone is there with you?”   
  
They looked around and started tapping against the steering wheel. Of course nobody was there. They leaned back into the seat. The little chimera, Hayden, was dying. It had fought so hard and the little angry wolf was struggling hard not to tear into flesh for its first love. It was hard not to feast on their pain.   
  
_But they don’t know we know that, do they?_   
  
“I’m on my way home, dad. No need to worry.”   
  
“You better come here quick, son. I… god.” They furrowed their brow at the immense stress the voice of the human was emitting. Then a smile spread over their face.   
  
“Sure, pops. Be right home.” They disconnected the call.   
  
_It died, didn’t it? We can’t wait for the distress._   
  
The chimera wasn’t going to survive anyways. They knew that. Oh, what pain the wolf pup must feel now. The thought alone made them start the car and drive away from the ledge, turning around to finally start more chaos.   
  
_The doctors are going to try and find us soon, we can feel it._   
  
But that was for another night. For now, they were going to watch a pack hanging by threads fall and hit the ground.   
  
XXX   
  
Scott stared ahead. Hayden had died. The mercury in her system had been too heavy. Parrish had collected her 15 minutes ago. Liam had run of and Scott didn’t have the energy to stop the beta. He knew he should.   
  
After the sheriff had informed them of Theo’s death, Scott wasn’t sure what he had left. Theo had been so supportive, always finding the right words.   
  
Scott closed his eyes. He ruined everybody that got involved with them.   
  
Malia was ignoring him and Scott was so tired. He didn’t know what the werecoyote was up to, but the secrecy was making him sick. He still hadn’t heard from Kira and his heart ached at the thought that he had lied to her for so long.   
  
“We all gotta start talking to each other again.”   
  
He had meant it when he had said those words to Theo. And then Theo had talked to him, told him horrible things.   
  
Scott wrapped his arms around his torso and buried his face in his shoulder. He hadn’t meant for this to happen. He’d just wanted everybody to be alive, to be happy. He didn’t mean for so many lives to fade away. He didn’t mean to pull everybody into this world. He was losing everybody.   
  
And Stiles wasn’t there to tell him to pick his ass up. Because something had changed, and Scott wasn’t sure for how long Stiles had been distancing himself. For how long he had carried around the thought of…   
  
Scott cut himself off.   
  
“Sweetie?” Scott looked up and found his mum kneeling in front of him.   
  
“I don’t know what to do,” he whispered and closed his eyes, refusing to let himself cry. Warmth seeped through his jeans at his knee and he felt his mum’s hand curl around it.   
  
“It’s going to be okay, Scott. I promise.” She looked around the room and a small smile showed itself when she noticed Lydia curled up on the seat, eyes closed. Scott followed her gaze. Lydia was still here. Still there.   
  
Scott groaned as he shifted on the floor. He should find Liam. He should try and give comfort to his beta.   
  
“I’m going after Liam, okay? Can you…” His gaze dropped to Lydia again. His mum nodded.   
  
“Go find the kid, we’ll be okay here.”   
  
XXX   
  
“Hayden died an hour ago,” were the first words out of the sheriff’s mouth, the man leaned over the kitchen table. They had guessed correctly. They looked down, scraping their feet over the floor. It wasn’t hard to sound sad.   
  
“Damn.” They couldn’t care less about the chimera. They cared about the wolf and its pain. They looked up and pulled their lip between their teeth at the sheriff’s tired face.   
  
“Dad, you need to sleep.”   
  
“Stiles, there is a homicide investigation going on. You know I can’t just sleep.” They shook their head. They did know. And they _cared_.   
  
“Even just a couple hours, dad. You can’t solve anything when you fall asleep at the table.” The sheriff sighed loudly and rubbed his hands over his face.   
  
“Can I trust you not to go out again?” The sheriff looked at them, he knew they wouldn’t listen to him.   
  
“I need to check on the others.” The lie didn’t register, of course it didn’t. The sheriff didn’t know about the previous night. _He doesn’t know that we aren’t really pack anymore._   
  
They smiled at him, making it tight lipped and sad. The sheriff sighed.   
  
“Just – straight to Scott’s and nowhere else, okay?”   
  
“Yes, dad. I promise. Now go get some sleep.” They waited for the sheriff to walk away, closing a door softly, before they leaned over the pictures the sheriff didn’t even bother packing up. They smiled at the wolf’s body.   
  
_It’s almost surprising how they haven’t thought about a link to us, huh? But then again, wolves are stupid. We can fool them again and again and they fall every time. That’s why we’ll have so much fun._   
  
They pushed the pictures into a neat pile before leaving the house again. It was time to track the little wolf and its pain.   
  
XXX   
  
It wasn’t hard to find it. The path of rage tearing through the preserve was close to a bright light following the pup around. They smiled widely, fingers dancing over the torn tree bark to their right. They were taking their time. It shouldn’t be long until the pup sensed them; even through its rage it would hear them soon. Their hand left the wood and fell to their side again, touching one of the small knifes they had collected and prepared.   
  
They likes knifes. It allowed so much room to play with their victim, their meal.   
  
_Do we feel sorry for wolves and their stupidity? No. We don’t. Wolves harmed us, offended us. They deserve to pay for their offences._   
  
The wolf howled and the sound was filled with so much pain that their skin crawled with anticipation. Their steps quickened and they entered a clearing, the pup curled against a tree. It was whimpering.   
  
“We would say we’re sorry for the loss, but there is no point in lying, is there?” They laughed at the startled jump of the wolf. The pup stared at them, eyes red and wide. It was wolfed out and snarled.   
  
_It can’t decide between anger and fear. We like when they get confused. It means we’re smart, dangerous. Right?_   
  
They stepped closer, uninterested in the growls of warning emitting from the chest of the young thing. It recoiled.   
  
“Stiles?” It’s voice was hoarse, but human. _Adorable_. The pup hadn’t been around to witness their force the first time around. They were going to show it.   
  
“We almost forgot you are new, pup. We apologize.” They took another step and wrapped their hands around shaking shoulders. They could feel the pain pulsating underneath their palms and a groan escaped their lips. The pup was going to be a wonderful wreck.   
  
“Stiles?” It was scared now, tensing under their touch. It didn’t understand.   
  
“We like that name.” They pushed the wolf into a tree and smiled down at it. “We will make you understand, pup.” _We will teach it. It should have informed itself better._   
  
“What-what are you doing?” It was terrified, but they could still feel the spark of defiance. It was ready to fight, despite its grief. They were almost impressed. But it was a wolf. Wolves made stupid decisions, every single time.   
  
“You are in such pain, wolf. We like it a lot.”   
  
The wolf snarled again and pushed. They let go with a chuckle. “We’re not going anywhere, pup.”   
  
One of their blades found their way into the pup’s thigh and it howled. They smiled and grabbed its shoulders again. They tilted their head.   
  
The pup was breathing harshly, pain and grief getting to it. It slumped and they sighed.   
  
_And here we thought it was going to be interesting._   
  
They lifted the wolf’s head, grabbing its chin. The nail of their index finger dug into its skin. “We would love to continue this chat, but we can’t ignore the pain anymore.” They grabbed a second blade and adjusted their grip on the young wolf.   
  
“Stiles,” it whispered and they clicked their tongue. _It is becoming annoying._ The wolf’s eyes were trying hard, they could see. It tried hard to find something around them. An escape route maybe, a weapon, they couldn’t care less. They were going to get their pain.   
  
Slow, steady threads of pain entered their system and they smiled. Oh, they were only getting started. The pup was struggling in their grip, but it was weak. Too much had happened that night, it was exhausted. _Good._   
  
With an imitation of gentleness, they dragged the tip of the blade along the wolf’s jaw, a thin trickle of blood following their movement. The wolf cried out in pain a few heartbeats later.   
  
“These won’t heal easily, you know? It’s lovely to watch.” Then they put pressure on the knife and skin gave away, deeper than before. More pain made their heart skip a beat. _We will never have enough of this feeling, right? We will always crave to feel this way._   
  
XXX   
  
Scott had been on his way towards Liam’s neighborhood when he heard the howl. He had hoped Liam had run home instead of far away. It was a small spark of hope, of normalcy, but Scott clung tightly to the hope that Liam just wanted to be alone somewhere instead of going onto a rage and grief filled rampage through town.   
  
But the howl almost threw him off his bike and he skidded to a stop. It had been unmistakable.   
  
“Liam.”   
  
XXX   
  
They could feel the little wolf fading and crouched, pulling it down onto the ground. They smiled at their handiwork.   
  
The pattern had no real order to it, mindless swirls they would find in a teenager’s notebook. But they were much better than pen. The blood filling the air around them made them content.   
  
Of course the pain they took from the pup was delicious. It hadn’t put up a fight, but now they didn’t care. The pain was too good.   
  
They tapped their third blade against the bare stomach of the pup. All they got in return was a weak whimper. “Don’t worry. It’ll be over soon, puppy.”   
  
They started their carving, hands covered in the wolf’s blood. They grinned, teeth showing as they looked up into the crying face of a wolf too weak to call its pack. “We’ll be quick.”   
  
_We fooled you again._   
  
It stood out, it was deeper than their other cuts. They sighed as the pain hit them. They leaned over the pup. “Maybe you’ll see your little darling chimera,” they hissed and pulled the knife through its throat swiftly, groaning when the pain cut off.   
  
_We did good._   
  
They got up slowly, still reveling in the after taste the pup’s pain had left. Their eyes were closed as they lifted their head to face the sky, letting the night breeze cool their high. Their blood stained hands came up to smooth out the crease in their forehead and they laughed at the smell of blood so close to their nose.   
  
“So much chaos to be done with one body,” they mumbled as they looked back down onto the pup. Eyes red with tears were wide open, staring into nothing. Staring at them. _He should thank us for taking him to see the chimera, right?_   
  
The pack would have felt the loss. They wondered what it felt like, the pain of losing a pack member. _Not really. Just the pain. Would it be as sweet as inflicted pain?_   
  
They crouched down next to the body again and hoisted it up in their arms. “Let’s find a more public space, shall we?”   
  
XXX   
  
Scott had been running through the forest when it hit him, making his body shake uncontrollably. It felt like a punch through his chest, cutting off his air with a clean cut. “No!”   
  
He stumbled but pushed himself, following Liam’s smell until it mixed with blood and Scott felt sick. “Liam!” His senses must’ve been messed up, Liam would be fine. Liam had to be fine. He ignored the pain that told him otherwise.   
  
He broke through a tree line and stopped in his tracks. He knew that he was in the right place. His knees gave in when he saw the blood staining the ground in front of him. Liam’s fear and pain were filling his lungs and Scott’s hands fumbled for his inhaler.   
  
He had to be dreaming. This couldn’t be real.   
  
Scott knew it was real.   
  
He couldn’t get himself to move. He should message the others, they had to find Liam. They just had to. But his hands were shaking too badly when he tried reaching for his phone. And who would he call?   
  
Malia? She had been ignoring all of them. He couldn’t call Mason, it was too dangerous. Lydia was sleeping and she deserved rest.   
  
Scott stared down at his inhaler.   
  
Stiles wasn’t- he couldn’t call Stiles. Theo was dead.   
  
He took a second hit from his inhaler.   
  
Kira was gone. For a split second Parish crossed his mind.   
  
He was alone.   
  
Scott closed his eyes. Liam wasn’t dead. Liam would be fine.   
  
Scott just had to find his beta.   
  
XXX  
  
The sheriff had called Melissa as soon as he saw the face of the kid dumped at the front step of the office.   
  
“God, Melissa. It- They found a second body. Cut up like the other one. Melissa, it’s the young kid. Liam.”   
  
The words echoed through the McCall house as Lydia stared at the wall in front of her. She had known, felt it. She hadn’t needed Melissa McCall’s wide eyes, or the words Sheriff spoke on speaker.   
  
“Scott,” she whispered, her throat tight. The scream had clawed its way through, she didn’t want to make another sound. “Where is Scott?”   
  
He must have felt it too. He must have… They had to get him. He needed them.   
  
Lydia shook herself out of her stupor and grabbed her phone. They had to get the pack together. Pack…   
  
She shared a sad look with Melissa, who was still clutching the home phone in her hands, and called Scott. They had to get everybody together.   
  
Nothing else mattered right now.   
  
XXX   
  
They smiled at the pink beads of water swirling down the drain as they ran their fingers over their arms. Wolf blood. _Such a pretty thing._   
  
“Phone’s been buzzing down here!” The sheriff sounded tired, sad, and it was music to their ears. The only pain they would ever be able to get from the man. They weren’t going to hurt him. He was _family._   
  
“I’ll be right there, dad!” They waited until the water turned clear again and shut it off. They didn’t bother drying before leaving the bathroom, bringing the towel along into their room. They looked around, eyes lingering on the murder board pushed against the wall. They smiled.   
  
No more tangling red strings. No scissors stabbed into a mattress. They didn’t miss it.   
  
They pulled on sweatpants and a hoodie and slowly made their way down the stairs, running the towel through wet hair. The sheriff nodded to the phone on the kitchen table, before going back to a file on his knees. Liam Dunbar. It was hard not to look happy, but the sheriff was caught up in looking at the dead boy. They grabbed the phone and took retreat, unlocking the screen as they trudged back up the stairs.   
  
3 missed calls from the banshee, two texts and another missed call from that wonderfully cold coyote.   
  
_The pack huh? We aren’t surprised. After all, the wolves lost one of their own._   
  
They smiled and threw the phone and towel on the bed. This was going to be even more fun. They loved playing, they really did. And fooling wolves from inside was the sweetest delight. The phone came back to life, the banshee’s name flashing at them.   
  
“Lydia?” They still adored the humanity of their voice each time they spoke, each time they fooled.   
  
“Stiles. Get here now.” Her voice was heavy, full of loss. _She must have felt it. Oh, we wonder what that is like._   
  
“Where is here?” They knew. The alpha’s house. Someone was moving in the background and sheets rustled.   
  
“I don’t care why you’ve been avoiding us and why Scott refused to talk about you, just get here. The pack needs to stick together.” Of course they were going to go there. It would give them great pleasure to inhale pain stricken air, to fool even more people.   
  
“But Scott-”   
  
“Stiles, people are dead. Get. Here.” And she disconnected the call, her last words laced with both anger and such sweet pain.   
  
_Oh, we will come. We will be there._   
  
XXX   
  
Lydia looked around the room. Malia was curled up on a chair, arms wrapped around her knees and head resting on them. Melissa was pacing up and down, hands pushing her hair away from her face repeatedly.   
  
Scott hadn’t answered Lydia’s first call. She had gotten angry for a few minutes. Scott was the alpha. They needed him. She had called him selfish, until her anger was quickly turned into her sadness again. Scott had felt it, similar to her. Only had he felt pure pain, not just death. Lydia stared ahead, hands curling into the sheets next to her.   
  
Kira had started crying over the phone when Lydia called. And then a string of apologies had left the kitsune’s mouth. Lydia had known there was no way Kira could be there now. But she had to tell the girl, she had to keep the pack informed, _together_.   
  
Scott had picked up the second time, voice hoarse and tears audible. Lydia had wanted to break, but the sight of Malia curled into herself had brought her back and she had ordered Scott to come back.   
  
“We need you. You need us. Just come back, Scott.” Scott had shakily agreed and he would be here any second.   
  
Malia had showed up without Lydia calling her. The coyote had sat down without a sound, only moving to show Lydia that Stiles didn’t answer her texts or the one call.   
  
Lydia was angry. Stiles had been avoided them all. Malia had shrugged and looked away and somehow Lydia felt that the relationship between Malia and Stiles had a massive crack in it.   
  
And Stiles hadn’t answered Lydia’s calls either. Until he did and Lydia knew he should be here soon, too.   
  
The pack was beyond falling apart. They were broken.   
  
Lydia refused to leave it like that.   
  
So when Scott stumbled into his room and Melissa wrapped him into a tight hug, Lydia stood up and pulled Malia with her. Scott’s teary eyes met hers and Melissa opened her arms and the two girls were pulled into the hug. Lydia closed her eyes and let her mask break. There was no use in appearing strong. She felt Scott shaking against his mother and felt Malia's grip tighten on her back. She heard all of their heavy breaths, tired and sad and _defeated._ Lydia found herself wishing something she had thought of too many times. She wished she could reverse the last months, years.  
  
They had lost too many people. It had to stop, they had to stop it.   
  
The group only let go of each other when Scott stiffened in the embrace. Lydia heard shuffling and Malia broke away from the hug.   
  
Stiles was standing in the door, hands stuffed into his pockets and eyes refusing to meet with anybody else’s. “Sorry it took me so long.”   
  
Malia took two long strides and pulled Stiles against her, burying her face in his shoulder. The boy gripped the coyote tightly, eyes closing for a few seconds. Lydia looked at Scott, who stood the furthest away from Stiles. Lydia wanted to shout at him.   
  
But the tension in the room only got worse with each passing moment.   
  
Malia was mumbling something into Stiles’ shirt. Lydia only heard one sentence. “It didn’t matter to me, still doesn’t.” Stiles was completely silent and his eyes met Lydia’s briefly. They flicked away too quickly.   
  
Melissa cleared her throat and Malia pulled away from Stiles. Lydia moved closer to Scott.   
  
“I’ll make tea for everybody.” Lydia had never been more grateful for Melissa McCall. She nodded and Melissa left the room.   
  
“We can’t keep drifting apart,” Lydia said into the silent room. Scott sat down on the bed and Lydia joined him quickly, her hand grabbing his. He looked up at her and she knew he wanted to smile. Lydia looked up to where Malia and Stiles were standing.   
  
Malia climbed onto the mattress without hesitation, leaning her head against Scott’s shoulder.   
  
“Mason’s parents said he hadn’t left his room at all,” Scott said shakily and Lydia squeezed his hand.   
  
“He’s too young.” Scott’s voice had dropped into an almost inaudible whisper and Lydia felt the need to sound a humorless laugh.   
  
“We all are,” she sighed and scooted closer to Scott. Then her eyes drifted to Stiles, who hadn’t moved at all.   
  
“Stiles?” She asked tentatively. He looked up from his hands. Lydia could barely tell herself that Scott didn’t flinch next to her. Lydia knew it was a bad time to figure out what happened that the two best friends were so awfully distant.   
  
Malia grabbed hold of Stiles and pulled him down next to her, not lifting her head from Scott.   
  
“We can do this,” Lydia said after a few minutes of utter silence. Scott’s hand tightened around hers.   
  
“We just have to start talking to each other again,” her voice had gotten back its determination and she looked at Scott who nodded. Malia smiled unsurely up at Lydia and Lydia smiled back. Stiles nodded, too, but Lydia could still feel something off.   
  
“And nobody is left in the dark,” she added. She had had enough of information being withheld. Scott nodded again and lifted his head.   
  
“Thank you," he said quietly and squeezed her hand, reassuring in a way that made Lydia relax just the slightest.  
  
Melissa came back, cups in one hand and tea in the other. She put them down on Scott’s desk before kneeling down in front of the huddled teenagers.   
  
“You guys are amazing. If anybody can keep going and put an end to this, it’s you.”   
  
XXX   
  
They felt the coyote move against them and breathed in the heavy silence. The banshee was being the strong one. She was talking, gripping the alpha’s hand in hers. They kept from speaking.   
  
Melissa McCall poured tea and handed out cups, nurturing as mothers were. It was quiet again, the heartbeats around them not steady but as close as they could be.   
  
The pack was scared, still. The doctors were still around. Things weren’t over. _  
  
We are glad they aren’t. It makes things easier, doesn’t it? We like it this way._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all so much for your comments and kudos so far! I appreciate it a lot. 
> 
> tumblr: http://madnessiseverything.tumblr.com/


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am so sorry it took me an entire month to get this out, I struggled to get things down. Void's pronouns for Malia change throughout the chapter, I hope it's not too confusing. I used the pronouns to establish the connections Void is starting to take on from Stiles.

They looked around the school and smiled. _We don’t like this place, they tried to kill us here. That made us angry_. They strode into the hallway and forced the smile down from their face. Smiles weren't for faces that are expected to grief.  
  
The pack wasn’t at school. They were grieving, searching for answers. _We wonder why they haven’t thought about the words. Don’t they remember?_   
  
It insulted their work, offended them. _But all in due time._ They walked into the first class and dropped into a seat, the biology book dropping onto the desk heavily. They barely stopped the smirk when the teacher walked into the classroom. _Patience._ They leaned back, slowly and stretched their arms. They settled more comfortably into the chair and put their hands flat on the table. _Just one class. Then we let some chaos seep back into this damned place._   
  
Flashes of bloodied lockers made the lesson fly by. It wasn’t hard to notice the glances thrown their way, people hastily looking down when caught. _They wonder, are curious._ It made them smile into the sleeve of their hoodie, red color washed out and dull. _Oh, just you wait, kids. Just wait._   
  
They also didn’t miss the glance the teacher sent them, something akin to pity dancing in her eyes. They just tapped their fingers against the bottom of the desk, wearing the mask of unrest and uncertainty. After all, friends had just been killed, right? Nobody would see the truth of a broad smile and a red mind behind their mask.   
  
The bell was shrill in their fantasy of chaos, yet barely audible for them underneath the pained screams. With a sigh they stood up and tucked the bag over their shoulder, walking out of the class with a calm they had learned to express before their own storm. They still felt glances on their back as they moved towards the exit, no doubt whispers about them. No, him, their classmate. The kids around them didn’t understand, didn’t know.   
  
They intended on hearing pretty screams when the first students would discover their present. It wasn’t hard to grab hold of a girl they vaguely remembered. Sydney was her name, always there in the background.   
  
“Stiles,” she mumbled as he took her by her elbow, dragging her away from the crowds, behind the school building, into the trees. She didn’t resist and they knew it was because she was curious, wanted to ask how he was doing, wanted to pry with gentle, friendly fingers. They almost laughed at the thought.   
  
“Stiles, are you okay?” Her voice was filled with concern that a few weeks ago, they would never have expected from a classmate. But they just smiled.   
  
“Wonderful, Sydney. Just… marvelous.” They wrapped their fingers around the blade in their pocket, smiling at the cool metal in their palm. Sydney frowned.   
  
“You don’t look that well, are you sure you should be in school? I mean after…” She trailed off, hands going to her hair. They tilted their head at her.   
  
“Oh, we’re fine, Sydney. Trust us.” They laughed at the confusion on the girl’s face, frown deepening.   
  
“Stiles?” Her voice had won in hesitance, fingers disappearing into her hair in a nervous tick. They licked their lips and grabbed hold of her shoulder, driving her into a tree. A surprised gasp came from her and small hands reached up to curl around their arm. “What are you doing?”   
  
“Darling,” they sneered, reveling in watching the girl tense up, “we’re having fun.” _So much fun. Let’s hurry._ Panic showed on her face now, eyes wide and breath hitching with a spike of fear. They pulled out their knife, smirking at the strangled sound escaping her lips. “You ready to have fun, Sydney?”   
  
She opened her mouth, ready to scream, but their hand was faster, catching the sound to press it back into her lungs. “Now, that would ruin the moment, darling. Wouldn’t want to offend my idea of fun, would you?”  
  
They slowly turned the knife in their grasp and smiled down at it, before twisting their hand and burying the blade in the girl’s stomach, her eyes widening and a hoarse scream pressing into their palm. The pain was delicious and their toes curled at the spike of cold, simple pain. They didn’t have to add any poison, the human body was fragile on its own.   
  
Blunt, all too human fingernails dug into their skin as the girl tried to understand the pain. They bared their teeth at her and pulled the knife out, dragging it against the insides of the wound as they moved. “We like patterns, you know?” They dragged the tip of the knife over her chest, dipping slightly beneath her collarbone. _We love patterns._   
  
Tears were now spilling from her eyes, and her struggling had subsided, fear paralyzing her. _And maybe the pain, oh god, the pain. All ours._   
  
They put pressure onto the blade and it slid through soft skin, another scream ringing out uselessly against their hand. Blood welled up and they chuckled at the sight. “Almost a shame that has to leave your body, don’t you think?” They twisted their hand again, the tip of the knife digging in deeper, scraping bone. Their spine tingled at the sound, mouth falling open. The knife moved quicker through her skin now, a brush dripping with the color of pain. They wanted more red. _Lovely picture, our art._  
  
They fixed the sobbing girl with a stare, nose brushing hers slightly. “Let’s see if we can carve out that lovely, racing heart of yours.” Sydney had found more strength and put it into a wail that made her lips strain against their cold hand. The pain wandering up their veins made their eyes roll back slightly. _Yes, yes, her heart. We want it._   
  
They dug the blade deeper, skin crawling with pleasure as shocks of pain left the girl, her body limp in his grasp now. _We’ll dig it out of her, maybe give it a bow, make it a present for the banshee’s mother. Yes, that sounds nice._   
  
They let the girl drop to the forest floor, her head lolling back. _We almost wish she would have stayed awake, don’t we?_ They straddled her hips, hands and knife digging into her ribcage. Ribs snapped as they clawed for her pulsing heart, blood splattering their clothes and face as arteries broke. They couldn’t stop the giggle that left their lungs with an exhale of breath. Their tongue flicked out to taste copper on their lips. _Good._  
  
When their long fingers wrapped around the weakly beating organ, they wasted no time ripping it out. The tearing sound of muscle was music in their sensitive ears. The body twitched underneath them, nerves short-circuiting. With a sigh they stood up, admiring the life seeping out from in between their fingertips as they squeezed the heart. Blood dripped down.   
  
“Let’s make sure people notice our art, appreciate it.” Their voice was hoarse with the taken pain and they smiled down at Sydney. “Let’s make sure your peers see your open ribcage.”   
  
They didn’t carry her far, the bobbing of her head against their shoulder a nuisance. They put her down near the bleachers, knowing as soon as the next bell rang the first lacrosse players would jump out for their free period. They danced their way back into the school halls, avoiding a group of freshmen with cigarettes dangling from their hands. _The human body kills itself, it’s pathetic, right?_   
  
They giggled again when they saw the empty hallways, rows of blue lockers surrounding them. They dragged their hand along them, smiling at the trail of blood as they skipped down the hall. It looked great with the blue, gave these dim hallways a new edge. The heart clutched in their left hand found its place on Natalie Martin’s desk, her presence required in a class leaving them enough time to measure the wooden surface for its middle, finding a blue ribbon to tie around it in her drawers.   
  
They left with a proud smile, hands tingling with their trail of chaos visible throughout the school hallways. Ducking into the locker room, they sighed loudly as they looked down on themselves. _We’re prepared, though._ They took out the change of clothes from their backpack and walked into the showers.   
  
It was a lovely sign to watch the water turn red and pink once again, swirling down the drain between their feet. Soon they would be out, soon the scream would echo. Their hands pressed into their hip at the thought of the chaos the school soon would be drenched in.   
  
They inhaled in anticipation. _We’re ready, kids. Give us all you got._   
  
XXX   
  
Lydia’s phone rang loudly and she cursed as she scrambled to get it, Malia wincing. Scott looked up from where his hands were twisted together in his lap. “Yes?” She asked hesitantly, having recognized the sheriff’s number.   
  
“Lydia, are you guys alright?” Lydia frowned at the question and looked at Malia, who tapped her fingers against the table.   
  
“Yes, sheriff, why?” The sheriff let out a loud exhale.   
  
“I just- okay I need to ask this first: Is there a threat in the town that I was not aware of? One in relation to you?” Lydia’s breath stopped for a few seconds.   
  
“Sheriff, what happened?” Scott and Malia were worriedly looking at her now, and Lydia couldn’t stop her heart from fearfully lurching against her ribs. “Is my mum okay?”   
  
“She’s okay, Lydia. Well, she’s in shock.” He sounded tired, and Lydia picked up on the sound of people in the background.   
  
“What happened?” She repeated her first question and glanced up at Scott, who was already half-way out of his chair.   
  
“Uh, well,” the sheriff started slowly, obviously uncomfortable. “A student was killed at the school.” Lydia froze, eyes wide. “And your mother found the student’s heart on her desk. Blood was smeared on the lockers near your mother’s office.” Lydia felt sick. Scott grabbed the phone off her and pressed speaker, placing it on the table. Malia dug her nails, no longer human, into the table. Lydia didn’t have the energy to scold her.   
  
“Sheriff?” Scott asked tentatively. The sheriff took a deep breath on the other side of the call.   
  
“The sick bastard even made a bow around the heart,” he said with disgust and Lydia’s stomach twisted. She forced the bile down.   
  
“We’re on our way, sheriff. Where is Stiles?” The question made Scott tense slightly and Lydia narrowed her eyes. She still hadn’t been able to figure out what exactly had happened between Stiles and Scott, except for that a sort of fight had happened. She struggled to understand what could have happened to get those two to fight.   
  
“Stiles is here,” the sheriff said and a quiet ‘yo’ was heard in the background. Malia stood up and turned towards the door.   
  
“We’ll be there shortly,” Scott said. Lydia disconnected the call and grabbed her jacket. She was still prying through her mind to find someone who would want to intimidate her mother.   
  
“Do you think that heart is a message for you?” Scott asked as they climbed into Lydia’s car, Malia in the passenger seat as she watched Lydia throw the car into gear with interest. Lydia shuddered at the thought.   
  
“I really don’t know, Scott,” she sighed and turned onto the street towards the school. She hoped it wasn’t. She hoped it was a coincidence that the killer placed the heart – her stomach flipped at the thought, still – on her mother’s desk. But she had learned that in their lives nowadays most things usually weren’t a coincidence.   
  
At the thought of her mother finding a heart wrapped with a bow she sped up, Malia eyeing her speed from the side. Scott was fidgeting in the backseat and it was driving Lydia crazy. She could basically feel the guilt dripping off of Scott.   
  
“Scott, we couldn’t have prevented this,” she said with conviction. “We don’t even know if it’s supernatural yet.” The second sentence was laced with doubt. Everything was supernatural these days. But Scott nodded slowly.   
  
“Sheriff didn’t say who the student was, right?” Malia asked, pushing her hair out of her face. Lydia shook her head as she pulled into the school parking lot, police cars with still flashing lights invading her vision. She didn’t bother looking if she had parked within the lines before jumping out of the car. She saw her mother being questioned by a young deputy and ran, her heels making her feet ache.   
  
“Lydia,” her mother exhaled with relief when she spotted her and turned away from the deputy to catch Lydia in a tight hug.   
  
“Are you okay, mum?” Lydia mumbled into her mum’s hair. Natalie nodded.   
  
“I’m fine, sweetie.” Lydia pulled back and exhaled a shuddering breath. Natalie Martin looked terrified, shocked and Lydia hated it.   
  
“Have they…” Lydia’s voice broke. “Have they found out who the body is?” She asked, turning to the deputy. Her mother’s grip tightened.   
  
“It was Sydney,” Natalie Martin answered before the deputy could get a word out. Lydia swallowed, hands shaking by her side. Natalie pulled her daughter closer.   
  
XXX   
  
They watched the banshee reunite with her mother, watched the wolf sniff the air and the coyote breaking into a run towards them. They forced the upcoming smile to be small before wrapping the coyote into a hug.   
  
“What happened?” It asks; voice unsure and tired. They pulled back and shrugged slightly.   
  
“I don’t know,” they said, the pronoun foreign in their mouth. “I just… there was screaming and then I saw the blood.” The coyote rubbed its nose against their neck, before turning around and sniffing the air. Her chaos burned on their skin as her fingers lingered against his elbow.   
  
The wolf was looking around now, and they tilted her head at it when it seemed to try and find a way beyond the police tape. It turned away when it found them looking at it and they shook their head.   
  
“What happened between you two?” The coyote asked and they shifted, looking at her with discomfort playing on their face, the act almost too easy.   
  
“We uh, we had a fight.” They rubbed their neck to underline the uncertainty they put into the statement. The coyote crossed her arms. _We like it, it’s like us. A trickster._   
  
“About what?”   
  
“Hey guys,” the sheriff came up next to them and the coyote sent them a pointed look, signaling they would talk again. _We’re going to tell it, tell her. We like the coyote, it’ll understand, she will._   
  
The banshee and the alpha joined them, the sheriff looking around to ensure their momentary privacy. “Can you get anything, Scott?” The alpha shook its head. _Of course._   
  
“I can’t get a scent apart from the blood. No wolf, or anything like that.”   
  
“Could it be another chimera?” The sheriff asked. “The girl’s ribs were broken open, as if someone dug their hands in and pulled them apart.” The banshee shivered. They smiled internally. _Yes, appreciate our work. Notice our message._  
  
“I don’t know,” the alpha said honestly, stuffing its hands into its pockets. _It feels guilty, look at that._   
  
The coyote clicked her tongue. “I can’t get anything either.” She appeared disappointed, still so unsure that they placed their hand against her lower back.   
  
The sheriff sighed. “I’m sorry for dragging you into this,” he said and ran a hand over his face. “Nowadays it seems like simple criminals isn’t this town’s thing anymore.”   
  
“It’s okay,” the banshee said, her discomfort at the heavy feeling of death apparent on her face.   
  
“Have the – the Dread Doctors showed up again?” They straightened slightly at the man's question. _Those doctors haven’t shown themselves to us yet, we wonder why._   
  
“No,” the alpha said with grief. “Nothing.”   
  
“I can’t help but feel like they’re building up to a climax,” the coyote said and pressed herself closer to them.   
  
“Same here,” they muttered to the group. _Oh, we know they’re building up to something. We want to see what it is, what it will do._   
  
“Okay, you guys, I have to get back to my team, we're still trying to figure some things out” the sheriff said and squared his shoulders. “Call me if anything, and I mean anything, happens. I have a horrible feeling about everything currently.” They didn’t miss the glance the sheriff threw their way, intense protectiveness flickering in the man’s eyes. _He had a train of thought, didn't he? Noticed our writing._ They reached out to clap him on the shoulder.   
  
“We will, dad.” The sheriff nodded and walked away. The alpha sighed and ran a hand through its hair.   
  
“What do we do now?” The banshee asked, hands clutching her purse to her side. They looked at each member of the group, the alpha shifting on its feet, the coyote still pressed to their side, the banshee looking over her shoulder to check for her mother. They smiled, keeping it tight-lipped.   
  
“Let’s just get out of here and collect all the facts we have. Maybe we overlooked something.” The banshee nodded at their words. They dropped their hand from the coyote and stuffed their hands into their pockets.   
  
“With whose car are you here?” The banshee slightly raised her hand. “I’ll be at your place with my jeep, then,” they said with a slight nod. They felt the coyote shift.   
  
“I’ll come with you,” she said, straightening up next to them. They looked at the alpha. It still avoided their gaze.   
  
“Scott?” The alpha snapped its head up and nodded, albeit absentmindedly.   
  
“Sure, we’ll meet you guys at Lydia’s.” The banshee took hold of the alpha’s wrist and turned them around, not before throwing a glance back at them.   
  
“Be careful,” she said.   
  
“Don’t worry,” they answered. “We’ll be right behind you.” The coyote already turned around.   
  
“Where is your jeep?” They jostled the backpack, now a lot lighter than this morning, on their back, and nodded their head to their right. The coyote started walking and they followed, smiling to themselves. They wouldn’t hurt the pack, they had already decided that. _Just toying, not hurting._  
  
Malia climbed into the passenger seat and looked at them expectantly. “Why did you and Scott fight?” They sighed and sat in the driver’s seat, throwing their backpack into the backseat.   
  
“I killed Donovan,” they brought out, putting enough strain on their voice to appear as if struggling with the statement. The coyote nodded, a slight frown on her face. They tilted their head at her.   
  
“You knew?”   
  
She shook her head. “I guessed. I saw the bite on your shoulder.” She hesitated and they turned their body to face her. “It didn’t matter to me,” she mumbled, eyes flicking down briefly. “So I never said anything.”   
  
They smiled, feeling again how similar they were. _She’s seeking approval, don’t we think?_ They reached their hand over to grab her fidgeting one, giving it a light squeeze, before turning to get the jeep started.   
  
“So why did you fight?” Malia asked as they turned to drive out of the school parking lot. They sighed. They knew now that the alpha knew a different story about the chimera in the library. It had been a miscommunication in its finest form, they should probably fix it soon.   
  
“He knows a different story to it. It was an accident, I swear.” She nodded at their words. “I think he believes I did it entirely on purpose, went out to kill him.” They felt her tense. _Oh, she is definitely seeking approval of us. How interesting._   
  
They looked at her, the coyote’s eyes downcast, her hands in her lap. “Are you okay?” She nodded at their question. They looked ahead and smiled to themselves.   
  
The doctors were still around, the coyote was hiding a chaotic secret – _It feels wonderful_ – and the alpha was losing hope. It was going to be a feast. _We won’t hurt the pack. We won’t. The chaos in this town is wild enough for our hunger to be stilled._


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am so, so sorry. Seriously. My life has been an utter mess full of finals, a four week road trip and the move back to Germany. I told myself I'd somehow manage to update, but obviously that didn't happen. I just am now getting back into writing and will soon be back on track. I love this story too much to keep it floating any longer.  
> This is a shorter chapter, but I really wanted to get it out and written. I promise that I will update more regularily from now on. Enjoy :)

Scott’s mind was chaotic. His throat felt raw, as if grief and stress had ripped his ability to reason with words in half. His shoulders were sore from the world pushing down.

“Scott, what happened between you and Stiles?” Scott flinched at Lydia’s sharp voice and looked up from his hands. They were driving back to his place, only had left the school a few heartbeats ago and yet Scott felt as if he was frozen in eternity. His heart thumped in his chest. _Stiles_ …

“What?” It was the only word that made it past Scott's lips, past all the lies of "I'm fine, we're fine".

Lydia glared at him. “Scott.” Her tone was clinical, as if preparing to explain a math formula. But Scott could hear the strain on her voice, could hear how her pulse hadn’t slowed yet. “You two are a package deal, have been for forever. And suddenly you haven’t spoken a single word to each other for over 24 hours? What the hell happened?” There was something else in her voice, something that made Scott’s throat close up even further.

He looked back down to his hands. They were shaking, and he hated the weakness they made all to clear to any observer's eyes. He closed them into fists, human nails digging into his palm. He felt nauseated.

Stiles had killed someone. Had cracked someone’s skull. The simple thought of it made Scott’s stomach flip worse than the thought of the heart placed on Miss Martin’s desk. Stiles had killed someone. Scott had tried hard to find a way Theo had misinterpreted the situation somehow, that their old friend had been seeing things, but the way Stiles had reacted had shown him all he needed to know. Something that he had never wanted to know.

_“Some of us have to get our hands a little bloody sometimes.”_

Stiles’ words still echoed in his head. It made him flinch when the shout reverberated through his mind, bouncing off of the walls and getting louder each time.

“Scott.” He looked up again. Lydia had pulled the car over on the side of the road and had turned her body to face him, hands outstretched. Scott looked at her hands, fighting against the tears burning in his eyes suddenly. She sighed and grabbed his balled hands.

“Tell me. We have enough troubles, we can’t have you and Stiles fighting. We need the two of you working together as usual to get through this.” Her voice was soft now, but the slight plead in it made Scott’s shoulders tense.

“He- we…” Scott trailed off, scared to continue. How could he put the mess of his head into one sentence? Lydia was looking at him with nothing but comfort lingering in her eyes, lips turned up ever so slightly. It made Scott’s heart drop. “He killed someone,” tumbled out of Scott’s mouth with more haste and vigor than he had hoped it would. He winced, nails pressing crescent moon shapes into his palm. He could smell when they broke the skin. Lydia’s grip on his hand tightened. Her eyes were wide.

“What?” Her voice was pitched higher than normal.

Scott swallowed, eyes burning. The still running motor of the car suddenly was agitating to his ears, the sound making his skin crawl. “He killed Donovan. Theo saw him, he- Lydia, Theo said Donovan’s skull was basically caved in by the time he got Stiles to stop.” The words were quick, Scott felt their burning trace as he closed his mouth. His voice was hoarse and he wanted nothing but to cry. His best friend had kept something like that from him, had done something like that.

It was as if he had been faced with a completely different person.

“But… why?” Lydia’s voice was thin, wavering. Scott looked at her, knowing his eyes were wet.

“I don’t know, but he… I couldn’t just…” Scott didn’t know how to find words to describe the turmoil inside of him. He had tried hard not to believe Theo’s words, but with the anger Stiles had been showing over the past few days it was hard not to see what Theo told him. Stiles hitting his jeep, the constant smell of anxiety, and the secrecy.

Stiles had murdered someone.

“Scott, are you sure?” Lydia asked and the motor made Scott want to growl. It grated on the paper thin nerves he was trying so hard to hold together. “Stiles wouldn’t just…” She trailed off and the uncertainty of the statement made Scott’s chest rumble.

“Wouldn’t he?” Scott hated the words as soon as they hung between him and Lydia. He hated how angry he sounded. But his heart couldn’t take the pressure of the thought anymore. Lydia flinched, her grip relaxing around Scott’s hands. Scott swallowed and his heart and head were rushing now. “Lydia, he’s been acting incredibly off these past days, hell the past weeks.” Scott couldn’t stop the doubts from pouring out of his mouth, his hands trembling in Lydia’s grasp. “He just has been so… angry. I can’t…” He didn’t know how to continue his thoughts and fell silent.

“He wouldn’t just kill someone, Scott. We both know that.” Scott let his head drop and he stared at his and Lydia’s hands. He had thought he knew what Stiles would and wouldn’t do. He had been so sure he knew where Stiles’ line was. But he remembered a raised wrench and angry insults and his heart ached.

“It just… I tried not to believe it,” he mumbled. “It couldn’t be true, and I thought I knew that.” He felt like laughing, as if it would lighten the pain. “But the wrench had blood on it and he just started lashing out at me.” Scott still felt the sting of each of Stiles’ words.

_“Some of us are human.”_

“What did he say?” Scott looked back up, hoping Lydia knew a way away from all the chaos. Maybe she knew how he could fix them, how he could save everyone this time. She was strong.

“He started shouting, yelling at me that some of us had to get our hands bloody and that he didn’t have a choice. Theo had told me Stiles hit Donovan and then didn’t stop hitting him until he was dead.” Lydia didn’t show a reaction, bottom lip between her teeth in contemplation. Her eyes were shining, though, and Scott swallowed the burn of tears. “Lydia, what do I do?”

She pulled him in suddenly and hugged him tightly, a brief comfort for his racing thoughts. She pulled back and determination showed on her face. It made Scott feel a little lighter. “We’ll figure it out.” She turned back to the steering wheel and released the hand brake. “He’ll have to talk to us eventually.” Scott leaned back, hands gripping the fabric of his jeans. He wished he had Lydia’s determination. But the tight line of her face showed something that Scott knew meant Lydia would stay true to her word. And Scott was eternally grateful for her steady heartbeat. He believed her words. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you enjoyed the chapter. I know I did enjoy writing it, because this interaction is something that desperately needed to happen. Also, I would like to clarify that I don't believe in any sides of the Stiles/Scott scenario. But I do believe that Scott needs a hug immediately.  
> I only have a few more stressful things ahead of me and they will be resolved within a week or so and then I have all the freedom to write for all of you! I don't know how long this fanfic is actually gonna get, I'm kind of just going along with my bouts of writer's brain activity.  
> Thank you to those who stuck with this fic even though it took me so long to come back. Thank you so much for reading and all those amazing comments, they are a big reason of what made me come back with all this determination. Cheers, people, you are all amazing.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> How many times have I now done this unspeakable act? I hope nobody kept count. I am so, so sorry for once again taking ages to update. I had the worst possible writer's block for this fic :/ but I'm back now and with some talking between Stiles and Scott. Once again, sorry for the continuous disappearing I do, and I will try to better my ways. This is a pretty short chapter, but they will get longer again as the action picks back up.  
> Oh, and there's some more switching of pronouns, this time for Scott.

They stopped in front of the alpha’s house. It still was filled with such grief and pain that their back straightened and they avoided smiling by climbing out of the jeep. The coyote followed them and grabbed their hand, a small gesture that made the smile come out in a thin, forced form. “Scott can’t be that mad, right?” The slight note of hopefulness was still in her voice.  
  
“I don’t know,” they answered. “I think he doesn’t really know anything right now.” Malia looked unsure now and they started walking, the coyote by their side as they approached the house. The banshee and the alpha weren’t there yet. “There’s too much going on,” they added and Malia nodded.  
  
“I guess,” she mumbled and they stopped in front of the door. The mother wasn’t in the house, they knew. It was okay, though, they still had a key to the house. They fumbled with the bundle of keys in their pocket and found the one with the paw print key chain dangling next to it. Slowly they unlocked the door and together with the coyote made their way up to the room.  
  
“They’ll should be here soon,” they said and sat down on the bed, Malia joining them. The coyote stared at her hands.  
  
“I’m tired of the bodies,” she said quietly. They remember her saying something similar to them before their awakening. They grab her hand and wrap their fingers around it. _We don’t need to hurt her. She hurts enough already._  
  
“We’ll stop it. Whatever this is, we’ll figure it out.” _Oh, we will. We can feel something building. We will find it. It’s our job to cause this sort of strife and pain, ours alone._  
  
Malia nodded and sighed. Her head straightened and tilted slightly. “Lydia’s car just pulled up,” she said and they smiled.  
  
The heavy steps of the alpha and the banshee’s clicking high heels made their way to the alpha’s room. “Sorry, we got held up,” the alpha said as it entered the room, shoulders pulled up slightly and hands shoved into his pockets.  
  
They observed its stance with interest, the defensive and sheltered body language showing how beat up the alpha werewolf truly was. The banshee entered the room as well, her hands pushing strands of her hair away from her face. _Strawberry blonde_ , they thought and almost laughed. _Old habits die hard_ , they knew the phrase all too well.  
  
“Before we even attempt to do anything to figure out whatever the hell is going on out there,” the banshee jerked her chin towards the window of the room, no doubt meaning the supernatural chaos that they enjoyed so much, “you two need to sort things out.” She pointed between the space of them and the alpha and they leaned back slightly, hands twisting into the cover to convey nervousness. Malia turned her body towards them, her hand itching close to theirs.  
  
“What?” they asked, eyes focusing on the broken expression on the wolf’s face, eyes sparkling with discomfort, pain, and a small sliver of hope they were so accustomed to seeing within the alpha; a sickening habit of holding onto hope until it would blink out of existence.  
  
“Stiles,” the alpha said quietly, a frown working its way onto its face. _Scott._ “We need to talk.”  
  
They didn’t have to try hard to see the underlying hurt, the pain of betrayal layered into the statement, hanging heavy in the air of the alpha's room. They wanted to scoff. Betrayal certainly never happened. “Okay,” they answered and looked at the two girls, sure they would want to give them alone time. Malia seemed reluctant to leave his side, but the banshee gently wrapped her hand around the coyote’s arm and guided her out of the room to give them privacy. Not that they actually needed it, but the wolf probably did.  
  
“What happened with Donovan?” came the unexpectedly blunt question and they straightened up, hands coming up to fall between their knees, wringing nervously.  
  
“He attacked me at the school,” they said quietly. While this – disagreement certainly felt exhilarating, there was no need for them to lie. There would be enough strife for them to feed on soon. “And he- he had teeth on his hands and he wouldn’t let me go so I – I grabbed the wrench.” The pronouns were slowly getting easier to speak, but their wrongness didn’t disappear. They looked up as the wolf flinched.  
  
“Scott, I hit him with it and he let go. I didn’t know what to do, he was looking at me with this – this anger and I ran.” Confusion showed on the wolf’s face, but he didn’t interrupt. They wondered how exactly the conversation that no doubt happened between it – _him_ – and the banshee went to make him so quiet and ready to listen. Maybe the ridiculousness of their fight had finally reared its head.  
  
They cleared their throat. “I went to the library and he found me, he kept trying to get me on the floor and the scaffolding was there, I didn’t know where else to go.” The memory of the adrenaline rush in their veins as they scrambled up the shaking construction flooded their senses and they breathed in deeply. “I climbed it and he kept taunting me, and he had my legs…” they trailed off and the alpha looked pained.  
  
“He was trying to kill you,” it exhaled finally and they nodded.  
  
“I pulled this pin and some of the scaffolding collapsed and when I turned around a steel bar had gone right through him. I called 911 but I couldn’t – he was looking right at me, Scott. I had to get out of there.”  
  
The wolf took a step closer. “Theo, he… He said you bashed his head in,” ~~it~~ he confessed and the words made them let out a small, startled laugh. The wolf looked at them with wide eyes and they ducked their head.  
  
“He lied, Scott. He lied so many times,” they breathed into the space and the wolf crossed the remaining space between them. They stood up as he fidgeted in front of them, putting them at eye level with the nervous wolf.  
  
“You were right about him, then?” The way it was still a question reminded them of the chimera’s grand scheme, the perfect way it had managed to act and lie its way into the pack. “Oh god, I let him get between us.”  
  
“We,” they corrected without hesitance. After all, they had said to speak the truth – all of it. “We let him get to us. He was excellent at what he tried to do.”  
  
Scott shook his head in disbelief. “What happened, Stiles?” he asked with his head tilted slightly, but his body relaxing as the situation sunk in. “Why could we be split apart so easily?”  
  
“I wish I knew, Scotty.” The nickname felt familiar, good on their tongue. _No hurting, just playing. No hurting. Pack._ “There was too much going on. He got to all of us.”  
  
The alpha looked at them with a small smile. “I’m sorry,” he said and pulled them into a hug. They stiffened briefly, the contact awkward and clumsy. With a quick recovery, they folded their hands on the wolf’s back. They leaned into the embrace, the brimming chaos of pain dancing over their skin as the alpha relaxed completely.  
  
“Me too,” they answered. _Pack feels good, huh? Certainly interesting._  
  
A small sigh escaped the alpha and he pulled back. He patted Stiles’ shoulder awkwardly. The friendship wasn’t mended, they knew that. Scott looked at them like he knew, too. But it was back.  
  
They wondered what would happen to it once the chaos they so itched to create in the wake of the doctors and their experiments crashed down on Beacon Hills. _We will see when we dig our fingers into the next ribcage._  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you enjoyed the tiny cute.. re-friending? I needed some Scott/Stiles bonding seen as all my other stuff that I have hopes of uploading soon has so much angst. Thank you all for the comments and kudos, I get all smiley and stuff whenever I get a notification. I'm glad you all are enjoying this as much as I am. Next chapter will have the pack and my only sunshine Kira will finally show up! This fic has been definitely lacking of her presence and I apologize for that, but you'll get to see our kitsune queen soon!


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